The Unreal Realm of Crazy House and Daniel Darger
by GalaxyNerd420
Summary: Inspired by the Artist/Writer Henry Darger Jr. This AU follows Daniel Darger, a lonely artist and writer who finds comfort in telling stories and creating art. This story is about his life, his works, people he knew,and many more things, so stay tuned because it's going to be a bumpy ride, and I hope you enjoy it with me!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

My life is not to be taken into too much detail.

It never has been, and most likely never will, but I will explain to you some of my experiences that have gotten me where I am today. Some of you may enjoy it, and some may turn away in disgust.

Most people wouldn't care about it, and I frankly understand why. _It's not interesting._

But what about those stories and artwork I made?

Huh, so some of you want the real story? W _ell..._

Let's begin with were it all began.

* * *

 **1892\. 81 years ago.**

The year was 1892, and I was born at home on April 12th. My parents, Daniel Sr. and Ella Darger, were overcome with joy when I arrived. My father, Daniel Sr., was a kind and reassuring man that I was glad to have the chance to meet in my very young child-like years. My mother was not around in my life for very long though. When I was but the age of four she passed away after giving birth to my younger sister, who I never met during my life, due to puerperal fever.

Me and my father lived together for quite some time, and it was bliss in a way. That all changed although in the year 1900. That year, crippled and impoverished, my father was taken away from me to St. August's Home for the Aged. It was upsetting at first, but as time went on I learned to accept it. Thankful that I had apparent intellect, the young me was enrolled in public school for third grade by some higher person in charge. After beginning public school I was then moved to the Mission of Our Lady of Mercy and Grace. While I was living in MOLMG during the year 1905, and during a time where I thought life was going to get better, I was informed that my father had passed, and things began to fall. I felt alone, and I had friends at the orphanage with me, but I felt like a piece of me, a piece that had been with me for all these years to help me bare the pressure, disappear.

Later that year I was sent to the Illinois Asylum for Frail-Minded Children in Lincoln, Illinois. The people of MOLMG didn't seem to like the idea of me, and I understood that very well. The diagnosis was, and I quote:

 _"Poor little Danny's heart is not in the right place."_

I was not fond of that place during that time, and I am still not to this day. I felt that during those years that the true underlying problem was that I could see through adult lies and began to become a "smart-aleck", and as a result, I was punished by teachers and bullied by classmates.

 _Creating strange noises could also be included into a compilation of those terrible years there._

It was irritating to the other children there, and I understand how it could be. It was a phase of my life that I still don't understand to this day. The Lincoln Asylum's activities included forced labor and severe punishments, for which I found enjoyment to put into my writing. I had friends, and I had enemies, which was surprising sometimes to say the least. I had tried to escape three times from that dreaded Asylum.

 _Two of the times I had been caught, and which raised my hopes in escaping again, but the third time was a success. Happy and ready for something more; I left and never looked back._

I was 16 at the time when I returned to Chicago. I was glad to be back, and with the help of my godmother, found employment in a Catholic hospital as a janitor. It supported me as long as it could until 1963 when I retired. In 1930, when I was 38, a brief stint of my time was spent in the U.S. Army during the era of World War I. After I was released from the military I decided to spend some of my time attending Mass daily, five was the total amount of times I went. Returning from Mass I picked up an array of trash from the streets around me; my attire was shabby, but I did try to keep myself clean and well-mended. One of my close friends during my lifetime, Kevin Schuyler, was of like mind on the idea of saving and protecting neglected and abused children. Me and him proposed a "Children's Protective Society" that would put described children up for loving families to adopt. But it was rejected by the Catholic Church, as well as my attempts to adopt a child. Kevin, sadly, left Chicago around the mid-1930s, but me and him kept in touch by writing letters to each other until his death in 1959.

In 1930, near the DePaul University campus, I settled in a second-floor apartment on Chicago's North Side. During the next 43 years of my life I wrote massive tomes, a ten-year daily weather journal, and other assorted diaries.

In April 1973, I was sent to St. Augustine's Home for the Aged, and like my father, died there. My last journal entry is as follows:

 _"January 1st, 1971. I had a very poor nothing like Christmas. Never had a good Christmas in my life, nor a good New Year, and now, I am very bitter but fortunately not revengeful, though I feel should be how I am.."_

* * *

I am a artist.

I am a protector of children.

I am Zemug's creator.

I am somebody, and somebody worth remembering.

* * *

 _If you people decide to remember me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Having ambiguity in your writing and art helps to have a broader selection of topics to write and/or draw about. You can become addicted to the worlds you create and the characters you develope. I, myself, have found comfort when coming up with things from my imagination, dreams, or in any form of media I can get my hands on.

* * *

 _In one of my stories, for example, are a group of young girls that I call "The Lillian Girls". There are seven of them, Ivy, Julie, Jenny, Nellie, Ruby, Molly, and Emmeline._ Their father, _Thomas Lilian_ , was the biological father to all seven. Out of Ivy, Julie, Jenny, and Emmeline, their beauty could never be created into the real world, because it could never be described, but their goodness and the nature in their souls were more spotless and pretty. Nothing could beat them away from their views of religion. Not even _Emmeline St. Mary_ could destroy them or the kindness in their hearts.

The girls did as they were told, attending Holy Communion and Mass every day, being kind, and living the lives of little saints each day. Thankful of their parents watching over their actions, it made them who they were today. By birth they were _Avannians_ , and they hoped to remain that way. Their parents, however, having to deal with the storms from the _Avannians_ , had abandoned their children and went to _Magdelinia_. _Alvis Lilian_ , who's wife, daughter, and toddler-aged son were lost to two seperate fires, was thankfully their uncle and was as pious as Thomas was. Hanson was built like Hercules, but his strength was that of a regular Lilian.

* * *

Long before Ivy was born, Alvis had a beautiful daughter also by the name of _Ivy Lillian_. Little Miss Lilian was also a Emmeline St. Mary, and died around the same age as Emme did. Ivy Marie Lilian was killed by the great forest fire of Avanninian. People say her soul still remains, some say it doesn't. _Wait and see for yourselves_.

* * *

These people are just a few of many characters that you will meet and learn more about throughout the book.

 _My book._ Daniel Darger's lone-written book.

* * *

They're intresting characters, and could be considered unique, but you will have to wait and see if they live up to your standards, _or exceed your expectation_.

* * *

 _The Messi will arrive. They will try. They may fail. They will give. They will take._

* * *

Zemug does not like this behavior. _He forbids the carefree genre._ Little children, because of this, are not in his likeable qualities list.

* * *

 _Generals try, Generals fail._

* * *

You will learn about these people and try to view into their minds. But careful, _they have feelings._

* * *

It may be fun.

* * *

 _"What's coming next Daniel?"_ You will have to wait and see.

 _"What/Who is the Messi?"_ You will have to wait and learn.

 _"What is Zemug?"_ You will wait and forgive.

* * *

 _"Who is Zemug, Cataline dear?"_ asked a small girl who stood before Catline Lorsch.

 _"He is a mass of destruction,"_ Cataline replied, _"not somebody who should be messed with."_

* * *

This leaves us in a position where we can begin the story.

* * *

Well, and now that we have prior knowledge about some of the _preculiar characters_.

* * *

 _Let the story begin._


End file.
